When I first started planning my tiny farm, I never imagined it would have three garden terraces.
I knew I wanted a greenhouse next to the tiny house. I knew I wanted raised beds. But I certainly didn't have a detailed landscaping plan.
Looking back now, every terrace exists because of another project.
It All Started with Too Much Soil
The first major step was preparing the site for my tiny house, which is being built around an old beehouse. Excavating the hillside created an enormous pile of soil.
At first, it looked like a problem.
Then we dug another hole—this time for the underground rainwater tank.
If you've read my earlier article about the tank, you'll probably remember that the hole ended up being... let's just say slightly larger than necessary.
That, of course, meant even more excavated soil.
At that point, the growing pile of earth wasn't just a pile anymore. Without planning it, I had already started shaping the future landscape of the tiny farm.
The First Two Terraces
Because the greenhouse will stand directly next to the tiny house, we needed a level area for it.
That became the first terrace.
But there was still far too much soil left.
Fortunately, our neighbour came to the rescue with his excavator and created a long lower terrace beneath the greenhouse. What had started as excess soil suddenly became valuable growing space.
Without even realising it, the future vegetable garden had already begun to take shape.
Then It Was My Turn
The remaining work wasn't done with heavy machinery.
It was done with a shovel, a wheelbarrow, and what felt like an endless supply of determination.
By then, I was already very familiar with the heavy clay that covers much of my tiny farm—not the soft, workable kind, but something that had quietly decided to become rock.
Some days I joked that I wasn't building a garden—I was simply paying for a gym membership with a shovel.
Every wheelbarrow felt like a small victory.
While digging around the tiny house for the future natural stone retaining wall, I gradually shaped the remaining terraces by hand.
Progress wasn't fast. Some days I only managed a few wheelbarrows. Other days I accomplished much more.
Looking back, I'm actually glad it happened that way. Working by hand allowed me to shape every curve and every level exactly as I wanted.
They're Still a Work in Progress
If you visited the farm today, you probably wouldn't call the terraces finished.
Honestly, neither would I.
The heavy clay is still there, and I still need to build proper steps connecting the different levels, making it easier to move around with watering cans, tools—and, hopefully, plenty of baskets filled with fresh vegetables.
One small job, however, made a surprisingly big visual difference.
I spread a thin layer of about 1 cm (½ inch) of sieved topsoil over the surface. It doesn't solve the clay underneath, of course, but it immediately made the terraces look much cleaner and helped me visualise the future garden.
The First Raised Beds
Once the terraces looked a little more finished, I couldn't resist placing my first three insulated "warm" raised beds on the upper terrace to see how everything would fit together.
For me, those raised beds represent an important milestone.
For the first time, I can clearly picture where the vegetables will actually grow.
They've spent almost half a year stored inside the old beehouse while other construction work was underway, so they're looking a little dusty and scratched at the moment. Before planting begins, they'll receive a fresh coat of paint.
In fact, we're already building another set of raised beds—but that's a story for a future article.
More Than Just Vegetables
The raised beds won't be surrounded by bare soil.
Instead, I've sown a mixture of grass and crimson clover around them to create a living green carpet between the beds. I'm sure plenty of other plants will join in as well—field bindweed certainly won't wait for an invitation, since it already seems determined to occupy every corner of the property.
But that's nature.
Building a tiny farm isn't just about growing vegetables.
It's also about creating a healthy ecosystem.
The crimson clover will provide nectar for pollinators, help protect the soil, and add colour throughout the season.
The soil on my tiny farm isn't perfect. Like many older properties, it carries the legacy of the past. Improving healthy soil takes time, and rebuilding damaged soil takes even longer.
I don't expect miracles.
Instead, my plan is to mow the grass and clover regularly and gradually improve the soil over the years through natural organic matter.
Small improvements, repeated year after year.
Who knows...
Maybe one day our own bees will be collecting nectar there too.
Every Project Created the Next
One thing I've learned while building this tiny farm is that very little happened exactly as I originally imagined.
The terraces were never part of a grand master plan.
They simply grew from one project to the next.
Excavating for the tiny house created space for the greenhouse.
The greenhouse required a terrace.
The oversized hole for the rainwater tank created another.
The retaining wall helped shape the rest.
Instead of seeing excess soil as waste, I slowly turned it into something useful.
And I think that's become one of the guiding ideas behind this entire project.
Standing here today, I can finally see the tiny farm beginning to take shape.
There's still plenty of work ahead, but for the first time the terraces feel less like a construction site and more like the productive vegetable garden I've been dreaming about for years.




